


scrawl (forever; never makes sense)

by hicsvntdracones



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, F/F, Genderbending, Genderswap, Rule 63, fem!Davos, fem!Stannis, genderswap aLL THE THINGS, male!Melisandre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 07:26:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hicsvntdracones/pseuds/hicsvntdracones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt from asoiafkinkmeme: take your OTP and genderbend it. basically, a drabble reflecting on fem!Davos and fem!Stannis being homo during the Greyjoy Rebellion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	scrawl (forever; never makes sense)

“Do you remember the Greyjoy Rebellion?”  
  
 _“It is said that the heir Rodrik died in the assault of Seagard. They are sailing back home to resupply, and we can intercept them here—” Stannis has both hands flat on the table, her face is etched with weariness, wariness. She presses her lips into a thin line as Davas marks a route on the map before them. She mutters something for only her knight to hear and Davas simply nods in response._  
  
 _“That will be all. Tell the men to prepare the ships, we sail within the hour.” The council files down from the quarterdeck, leaving the two women alone. Stannis walks to the ship’s wheel stiffly and rests her hand on one of the spokes. Davas goes to stand by her side then, and lays her hand atop Stannis’s own. The lady’s grim expression softens just slightly before Davas removes her hand and barks orders to the men in the crow’s nest._  
  
“Of course.” Shiren hollers in the distance, and then bursts into a fit of giggles as Edra chases him about the castle’s keep. The true heir to the Iron Throne and the bastard of the late king Robert. Stannis watches them both quietly from the rampart’s edge.  
  
 _When the battle is done and the Greyjoy fleet lies sinking in the bay, the sailors cheer and shout. Their commander orders the fleet to regroup and set course for where her brother and the lord Stark wait on land. Davas finds Stannis in her quarters peeling away her outermost layers of clothes. She turns after discarding the leather jerkin to catch Davas come upon her suddenly. She captures Stannis’s chin with her fingers, then kisses her, slow and deep to draw a moan from her lady’s lips. Stannis backs into the edge of her bed and stumbles to sit. By the clanking and clattering outside the door, they both know that the sail has been lowered. Davas curls her hand in Stannis’s short black hair and uses the left to guide her along the bed._  
  
 _“My lady—”Davas whispers, lips hovering just above Stannis’s own._  
  
“Your Grace,” a lilting voice from behind startles Davas. The red priest walks – almost as if floating – towards the two women there. “If I may have a moment of your time—?” Melisander smiles easily, beckoning Stannis with only her voice and the way he moves. Davas stands a hair shorter than he, but straightens herself regardless. Shiren may be the rightful heir, but until he comes of age, Stannis would rule as regent in his stead. _She is the Queen that these Kingdoms deserve. She will be just, good_ ; she thinks as the Baratheon woman leaves alongside Melisander, head inclined to listen to the priest’s whisperings. Her stomach curls at the sight of his hand on Stannis’s back. Without flinching, Stannis walks tall, walks like a lady, like a Queen.  
  
 _Her fingers trail through the sailor’s brown, tangled hair. Davas breathes in against Stannis’s shoulder and tastes the sea on her skin. Their limbs tangle together as they lie on the hard bed in the captain’s quarters. Stannis has cast aside her heavy coat and Davas wears only her loose cotton blouse and trousers. They rest to the lulling, rocking motion of the ship. In the quiet, Davas pulls away only to press light kisses up her lady’s neck, along her jaw. Her breathing is steady, a hint of a shudder rolls through her body and she moves instinctively closer to Davas._  
  
 _“We can’t – I am wed.” Stannis mutters, turning her face from the other. Davas’s rests a hand on her lady’s ribs, so gaunt and pronounced even after all this time. The woman beneath her is plain to most, but Davas loves her deep blue eyes, adores her cropped black hair, kisses her thin lips when they are alone. Stannis rests her hand above the sailor’s breast, as if preparing to shove her away._  
  
 _“I know, my lady.” Her words waver on bitter, but they both know it is only sorrow. The two sound like they fit in a maiden’s song; two lovers at sea, unable to be. Stannis hardly turns her face, but Davas knows she is allowing her touch once more. They keen and press against one another, kissing, moaning as the ship creaks and waves crash against its hull._


End file.
